Who Now Goes
by queen of the clarinets
Summary: Working title. Draco's life takes a turn for the worse, and he becomes dependent on his family. What happens when that's taken away from him?
1. The Murder of Narcissa

Disclaimer: I do own Harry Potter! I am J.K. Rowling! Muahahahaha! *is tapped on the shoulder by said author* Umm… never mind. *sigh* What do I own? I own the plot. Whoop-dee-doo.

~*~*~*~*~* Chapter 1: The Murder of Narcissa ~*~*~*~*~*

Draco was in Arithmancy when the owl came. Professor Dumbledore came up to the classroom and pulled him out immediately. Draco could see the grief in his eyes, and he looked back to see Hermione with a concerned expression, her gaze piercing his eyes. 

He followed Dumbledore to his office, where he was asked to take a seat. Next to him stood Professor Snape and Lucius, both apparently pained.

"Draco," Dumbledore began, "I'm afraid we have just received some terrible news." Draco looked over at Lucius, who walked over and put a reassuring hand on Draco's shoulder.

Dumbledore continued, "It's your mother, Draco. She was killed." He felt Lucius' hand squeeze. He didn't know how to react. He was speechless. "The culprit was a Death Eater." Draco didn't want to hear anymore. He immediately stood up and pried the hand off his aching shoulder. For a second, holding Lucius' hand, Draco connected with his father. He knew that Lucius loved Narcissa with all his heart. And for that moment, Lucius was not the strict, merciless man Draco grew up with. He was the loving, tender father that every child was supposed to have.

Draco was excused from classes for a week. That weekend he went home with Lucius for the funeral.

__

The sight of my lifeless mother hurt me in unimaginable ways. To see her so pale, so somber, so dead_ - at first I denied that this woman lying in the casket was my mother at all. My mother was a cheerful woman whose presence always warmed any room in Malfoy Manor. She was always there to comfort me when I once again didn't live up to Father's standards. Now, she was gone. Nothing would ever be the same again._

Draco didn't sleep for days. He lay on his bed in the dormitory, eyes burning holes through the ceiling. It would've been better if he'd have just cried. But he couldn't cry, even if he wanted to. He was emotionless. It was as if he didn't know what to feel. This continued even after he decided to wander the Slytherin common room. All of the students gave him their sympathies, but Draco never showed one sign of sorrow. 

__

I couldn't even concentrate in my classes. I didn't really feel like doing the work. In fact, I didn't really feel like doing anything. After Potions, Millicent Bulstrode asked me if I wanted to play a game of wizard chess, but I refused, claiming I had homework. Truth be told, I had piles of homework due soon, but I wasn't eager to begin. All I wanted to do was lie around, and maybe even sleep. All I could think about was how life at Malfoy Manor. How would I survive over the summer? Mother wouldn't be there to bake me cookies when Father was gone, or tell me that what Father did was wrong, or shield me from Father's lectures…

Of course, Draco doubted Lucius would ever lecture him again. His father had changed since Narcissa's death. He finally realized that something was truly wrong when Professor Snape asked him to stay after class one day.

"Draco," he began. There was a hint of worry in his voice. "Since the death of your mother, your grades have dropped significantly. If you don't do something about it immediately, I can guarantee you are going to fail."

This was just too much. Draco collapsed onto the floor outside the classroom and buried his face in his hands. "I give up," he muttered to himself. "I can't take this anymore."

"And I thought you were a Slytherin." He looked up to find the last person he expected to see in front of him. Hermione kneeled down next to him. 

"What do you want, Granger?" Draco spoke with annoyance and distress.

"I'm worried about you, Malfoy. I've been worried ever since your mother's death." He saw concern in her amber eyes.

"How do you know about that?"

"Dumbledore made an announcement." Hermione sighed. "You're depressed, Malfoy, and you need help."

Draco closed his eyes and hung his head. "Mother was the only escape from my home life."

"Look at me, Malfoy." He raised his head again and stared into her eyes. "Whatever it is that used to happen at home, I don't think it'll happen again. I've seen Lucius here. He's been talking to Snape and Dumbledore about you. He's very concerned about you."

"How do you know?"

Hermione cast her eyes downward and gave a little smile. "Well, you should know by now how well the three of us can eavesdrop." Draco smirked.

__

She offered to help me with my schoolwork, and I reluctantly accepted. I was actually somewhat glad she showed up. As we worked together in the library, I felt myself become a bit happier. It kept my mind off of Mother and Father, and my grades improved. Toward the end of the year, I was truly grateful to Hermione for coming to me after Potions. She brought me back from the dead. As she supported me, I saw things in her that I never thought I would: patience, caring, and a strong will. She reminded me of Mother. 

Maybe that's why I fell in love with her…

I admired her strength. Since our first meeting in the library, the word was spread around the school, and in the halls I heard people - mostly Gryffindors - giving her a piece of their minds for hanging around with a Slytherin. Despite their words, she met me in the library day after day. Soon, rumors started that we were secretly dating and Hermione was the victim of harassment. Still, she helped me. She was strong. I would've collapsed under the pressure, being in my fragile emotional state and all.

It was along this train of thought that I noticed something. The reason Hermione went through this torture was because of me and my damn depression. I had to talk to her.

As Hermione walked quickly through the hallways, ignoring the taunts and jeers from her classmates, Draco gripped her arm and pulled her aside. "Listen Hermione," he said, looking towards the floor, "I'm sorry about all this."

"About all what?"

"The ridiculing, the reprimanding, it's all my fault-"

She gazed right into his eyes. "It's not your fault, Draco."

"Yes it is, if I hadn't become depressed-"

"Listen to me, Draco." She placed her hands gently on his shoulders. Draco's gaze lifted as she spoke. "It's not your fault. To lose someone you love very much is heartbreaking. You can't avoid the pain like that. It's not my fault, either. It's everybody else's fault, for being so damn suspicious!"

Her grip tightened, and Draco could tell that she was stressed. Stressed from the extra work, the cruelty of her classmates, and the duties of being a prefect. He delicately took her hands off his shoulders and tenderly held them in front of him.

"You don't deserve to be treated like this," he said. "This is way too much pressure for you. So to lighten your load, I'm going to end our study sessions."

"No, it's okay. Besides, you're-"

"Me? I'm fine. Look at me. My grades have improved dramatically, and I'm apparently more cheerful. Don't worry about me." He gave her a smile, and she smiled back. Then, looking down, she slowly pulled her hands from his grip.

__

The days passed, and I felt myself sinking again. I could not figure it out. I could not concentrate in my classes, and I felt as if my heart was being pulled to the floor by some unseen force. I spent the better half of each day working the problem out in my head. Why did I start experiencing this so soon after I was encouraged by Hermione? Then the answer came to me. How did I not see it before? I decided to take action, and wrote Hermione a note:

Hermione,

I know that you're having a rough time right now. So I'd like to invite you for a butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks this weekend to help cheer you up, as you so voluntarily did for me.

Sincerely,

Draco Malfoy

I borrowed Pansy's silver-colored owl and sent it on its way. Hermione received the note the next morning, when the owls entered the Great Hall with the mail. I dared not look up at her when it came, for I was positive that our staring would become a very uncomfortable moment. Later that day I was joined in the library by a snowy owl. I took the parchment and read:

Draco,

I'd love to go. I'll see you on Saturday!

Love,

Hermione

After a few days of impatiently waiting, Draco woke up to find the bright Saturday morning sun shining through the window. He got dressed and dashed up to the Entrance Hall for the visit to Hogsmeade. This was the day he'd been waiting for. The day that could change his life.

When they arrived, Draco headed straight for the Three Broomsticks and sat down at an empty table. He rested his head on his hands. What in the world was he going to say to her? It'd probably be best just to tell her the truth. A few seconds later, Hermione walked in, her hair chaotic from the windy day. She straightened it out as she relaxed into a seat across from Draco.

He mimicked surprise. "No bodyguards to save you from me?"

Hermione smiled. "I convinced them that I was in no real danger. They're browsing the other shops."

Draco heard the clicking of high heels as Madam Rosmerta approached them. "Two butterbeers?" she asked, setting two mugs of the foamy drink down onto the table.

"Thank you, Madam Rosmerta," Draco replied.

Hermione took a sip. "Ah," she said. "Just what I need. That wind almost froze me in place."

Draco smirked. He sat there in silence for a bit, swallowing the delicious butterbeer and finding the right way to word what he needed to say for her.

"Is there something wrong, Draco?" she asked.

He sighed. How was he going to get this out? "Hermione," he told her, "you were there for me in my time of need. You helped me when I was dangerously ill. And I greatly appreciate it. Thanks."

"You're welcome," she answered, but Draco could tell that she saw something unsaid in his eyes. 

He continued. "After the death I saw you in a new light. You remind me of my mother. You care about me, and you kept helping me even when every other person told you not to. I guess that's why…"

"Why what?" She leaned closer to him.

Draco took a deep breath before the words escaped his lips. 

"I love you, Hermione."

Hermione managed to look surprised and not surprised at the same time. "Well," she said, "I have to admit that during the hours spent together in the library, I got to know the real Draco Malfoy. I learned that you have a heart underneath your snobbish and judgmental façade. And I learned that you greatly depended on your mum. I realized that you couldn't live without someone like her. Like me."

She paused, and Draco could sense what was coming next. "I guess," she told him, "what I have to say is that… I love you too."

__

"I love you too." The four words I most wanted to hear that day. They rang through my ears like the church bells at a wedding. My heart was lifted back into my chest as Hermione stood up and walked over to me. I got up, and she wrapped her arms around me, enveloping me in an immense _hug. I returned it and buried my face in her shoulder. I felt as if I could cry. _

I was so caught up in everything that I didn't hear the door open. Hermione did, and I felt her let go. I followed suit, and found Potter and Weasley at the door, bewildered expressions on their faces.

Harry stammered, "Um, we- we just wanted to- to let you know that it's time to go."

"Really?" Hermione answered. Reading their countenances, she added, "I'll talk to you later." They nodded and waved while she took one last swig of butterbeer.

She turned to face Draco and said, "Thank you for the invitation. It was wonderful."

No," Draco responded, "thank you. Thank you for everything." He placed a kiss on her cheek. Hermione let out a little smile and ran out of the Three Broomsticks.


	2. The Death of Lucius

A/N: I would just like to say I'm sorry (to those who notice) for portraying Lucius in a totally different light in this chapter compared to the last. But it's been literally months since I started writing again, and I've gained new insight on him. I'd like to rewrite chapter 1 so as to fit in with this new perspective, but right now I'm afraid I'd ruin it. Kinda hard to explain. So hope you enjoy anyway!

Luscious Kinney - Thanks, I hope you like this chapter!

Queen Li - I know this took forever, but hopefully you'll like it. 

hids - Thanks! Hopefully everyone will still like Draco as the story progresses.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

Chapter 2: The Death of Lucius

~*~*~*~*~*~*

The crowd cheered as Draco and Hermione Malfoy made their way onto the dance floor. Various couples then joined in as the music started. In Draco's mind, it was the perfect evening for a wedding reception. Held in the backyard of Malfoy Manor on a lovely July day, it was still comfortably warm without the light of the sun. Electric lights and torches provided enough lumination for the celebration to go on. Everybody was having a great time and said the wedding was beautiful.

__

The wedding was too wonderful for words to describe. A day that would forever stick in my mind. The sun was shining brighter than it had ever shown before. The cathedral was ornately decorated, and the floating candles, everybody said, were the best decorations of all. Multitudes of guests turned out. And my father was there.

Draco glanced at Lucius from the dance floor. He saw his father's somber eyes scan across the twirling and swaying bodies. Draco's smile faded slightly, which caused concern in Hermione.

"Are you alright?" 

"I'm fine," he said, averting his gaze back to her, but not before she turned around to find the object of his stare.

Hermione sighed. "Maybe you should go talk to him." Draco smirked in thought.

__

I'd invited Father, but I doubted whether he would come. As I stood at the altar, I looked at him sitting in the front row. He never smiled again after Mother's death (though it was rare to see him smile anyway), but I knew he was happy for me. Happy that I found someone to love, like he once had.

"Excuse me," Draco muttered politely as he stepped off the floor and took a seat by Lucius. He'd never actually had a talk with his father before, so everything felt a bit uncomfortable. "Father… I…"

Lucius held up his hand, silencing his son. "Don't worry about me, Draco. I'm fine." Glancing up into the sky he continued, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some important business to take care of. Good night, and congratulations." He stood up and walked into the Manor. Draco sat there for a minute with his face buried in his hands.

"Don't worry about Lucius, Draco. I'm sure he'll be fine." Hermione, who suddenly stood in front of him, took Draco's hand with a huge grin and, with her free hand, lifted up the bottom of her wedding gown as she led him back onto the dance floor.

__

Hermione looked so beautiful in her dress. It was made of a silky white material and accented with well-placed pearls. When I first saw her walk down the aisle, my heart gave a great big leap. That was the second best part of the wedding. 

I could've died from happiness when I heard those words come out of her mouth. "I do." And the elation with which she said them… it's too hard to describe. I still don't know how she managed to forgive me after all those times I teased her and insulted her. I was an arrogant and snobbish git back then, and I hated Hermione with a passion (and she probably felt the same way about me). Sometimes I wonder how she ended up being the one for me.

~*~*~

It had been a month since the wedding, and Hermione was sitting at the dining room table, sipping from a cup of tea and looking up at the ceiling every once in a while. Draco watched her from where he sat; he knew she was beginning to doubt the words she spoke to him at the wedding. 

"I haven't seen him in three weeks," she finally said. 

Draco sighed and sat back, unable to find any words.

__

My father barely ever came out of his study on the third floor, and when he did, he always looked old and weary. He was not the same Lucius I grew up with, proud and noble. I was growing worried. Some days I would wonder if he died up there, but I would go upstairs only to hear voices coming from the study. And one of them was always his. 

It was a sunny Saturday in August when Draco saw Lucius for the first time in almost a month. Hermione was out shopping in Diagon Alley, and Draco, in his loneliness and boredom, had subjected himself to wandering aimlessly around the manor. His little tour ended in the parlor, where he saw his father staring out of the glass doors into the garden in the backyard. Lucius looked very feeble and pale, almost like he was Draco's grandfather rather than his father. Draco could tell he hadn't been eating or sleeping. His grey eyes were bloodshot and his eyelids were weighing heavily. 

He opened his mouth as if to say something, but no words came out. He didn't know what to say. He repeated this several times, shifting weight from one foot to the other until a voice said, "Out with it." 

Draco looked up. He saw Lucius' reflection staring at him from the glass. Finally he gestured to an armchair and said, "We need to talk. Have a seat?"

Lucius waved his hand in refusal. "I'd prefer to stand. I feel like I've been sitting for years." He continued to gaze through the grass into the sunlit yard.

Draco sighed. "You don't look healthy, Father. You need to eat something."

"I'm not hungry," he replied in an overconfident tone. It was the same tone Draco was used to hearing, but the voice itself was less bearing. It gave off a sense of tiredness, a need to rest. 

"What have you been doing up there?"

"You'll find out when it's time, Draco." Lucius breathed a deep sigh and turned around. It was a sort of hobbly turn, and Draco noticed that he needed a cane to walk nowadays, that he couldn't even carry himself on his own two feet anymore. 

__

Father limped his way across the floor to where I stood. A second passed when we just stared into each other's eyes. I couldn't read his emotions until he wrapped his arms around me. My father, Lucius Malfoy, was giving me a hug. I returned the gesture and felt him crying into my shoulder. He wasn't crying on the outside, but I could feel it inside. And I was crying, too. He then let go, and stepped back, apparating back upstairs. But just before he disappeared, I saw a little smile appear on his lips.

That was the last time I saw Father before he died.

When Lucius left, Draco collapsed into an armchair, looking shocked. He knew that would be the last conversation he ever had with his father. And he knew that Lucius was slowly killing himself, intentional or not. He sat there for what felt like hours, staring off into nothingness. The next thing he remembered was Hermione was kneeling in front of him, bringing him back to reality.

"Draco! Draco!" Hermione looked concerned. "Draco, love, are you okay?"

He gazed into her eyes with a sadness she hadn't seen since Hogwarts. "My father is dying." 

Tears welled up in Hermione's eyes. "Oh, Draco…" she whispered. He slid off the chair, and fell onto his knees on the floor. The two lovers kneeled there, enveloped each other's arms.


End file.
